Page 34
Story: A Touch of Fate
“Maybe.” He paused, his frown deepening. “And I don’t want to hurt you. You are more vulnerable than other women, so it crossed my mind that I might have to be more careful because of your injuries.”
I bit my lip. Maybe the mostly faded scars on my back, hips, and legs had caused him to worry, and I found it incredibly touching that he was trying to make sure that I would be okay. “You don’t have to treat me differently. I’m not breakable, and my injuries were treated properly, so they don’t cause me much trouble anymore. I’m not any different from other women. The wheelchair doesn’t mean I feel differently or that I don’t feel desire. I’m your wife, a woman, a person. The wheelchair doesn’t define who I am.”
“All right,” Samuel said in a low voice, moving a bit closer. “Then I’ll cut to the chase. I want to have sex with my wife tonight. What about you?”
Boom. I stared at him. I knew he meant me, but it took a few heartbeats to sink in. My throat became inexplicably dry. I’d fantasized about it, but I hadn’t really thought it would happen.Now that I realized it would really happen, my nerves crashed down on me. “I-I…”
“It’s okay if you say no.”
“No,” I blurted. “I mean, yes.” I shook my head, feeling a bit lightheaded.
Samuel touched my neck lightly, a gesture that calmed and excited me at the same time.
“I-I want to.”
“Don’t think. Let me handle it,” Samuel murmured, sounding reassuringly confident.
The overthinker in me protested, but for once, I didn’t listen. I only nodded. Samuel oozed control and calm.
Samuel removed his jacket with utter poise, then unfastened his gun holster and put it down on the nightstand. He climbed on the bed, and suddenly, he leaned over me, his face taking up my vision, and his mouth came down on mine, kissing me. Kissing me like he meant it, not hesitant and restrained, but firm and demanding, and before I could process what was happening, his tongue found mine and tasted me, teased me, filled me with a fire I had been unfamiliar with. He climbed on top of me, his weight pressing me into the mattress, surrounding me with his warmth and scent and strength.
Flames of need licked at my belly, making me ache in a way I’d never experienced. When he finally pulled back, his breathing harsh, his eyes dark and full of desire, I felt like he’d breathed life into me. He looked at me like I was the most desirable woman on this planet.
His hand brushed my shoulder before moving to my rib cage and my hands, which were still pressed against my breasts. He looked me in the eyes as he pulled one hand, then the other away, laying me bare.
I swallowed, my breath shaky.
“You can say no any time,” he rasped. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t think I could get a word out of my tight throat. I was so nervous and excited like never before.
His gaze slid lower, down to my puckered nipples, then his thumb stroked the underside of my breast. The touch was light and gentle as his fingers traced the curve of my breasts almost reverently. He lifted his head, and his blue eyes searched mine. Did he think I’d stop him?
Even if I was nervous, even if I wasn’t sure I was ready for what he wanted, I was too high on the look of hunger on his face to leave it unfulfilled.
I stared back at him, my tongue too heavy to speak the actual words—to tell him I wanted this, I wanted him—but he must have seen it in my face, probably from years of experience with countless women. His palm covered my breast, and his mouth claimed mine once more.
His fingers teased my nipple, rubbing it between them, sending a delicious tingling through my core, which intensified with every swirl of Samuel’s tongue in my mouth. I lay motionless, not because my body forced me but because Samuel rendered me as such.
He didn’t leave me time for doubt or fear as he pulled away from my mouth and latched onto my nipple.
I let out a surprised gasp at the feel of his hot, wet tongue pressing against my nipple, circling it, of his teeth grazing my sensitive skin. My fingers found the back of his head, holding on to him almost desperately as I gasped and trembled, completely overwhelmed. The feel of his crisp suit against my bare arms and belly was strangely erotic. He moved from one breast to the next before he made his way down my body, nibbling and kissing, but when he reached my hip bone, I tensed, worried he’d touch my legs, legs that weren’t as sensitive as that of others.
Samuel peered up at me as he caressed from my calf up to my thigh. I distantly felt the touch in some places, mostly my thighs, like a dull pressure, but it wasn’t strong, and in other places, I didn’t feel anything at all.
I considered faking sensations, but again, Samuel acted before I could. His touch became firmer as he kneaded my upper thighs, and finally, I felt it everywhere, especially deep in my core, as if my head had finally caught up. He lowered his head and pressed a kiss to my thigh as his eyes regarded my face, gauging my reaction. I saw the kiss more than I felt it, but by seeing it, seeing Samuel’s beautiful face against my thigh, my body reacted with a flood of desire. He bit down lightly on my skin, and I felt that in my core like a shock wave of arousal. My eyes widened, stunned and helpless in his hands.
His fingers hooked in my panties, and he pulled them down. Heat filled my cheeks from the intense look in his eyes as he raised them from my center to my face. Never taking his gaze off me, he gripped my upper thigh and parted me. I should have looked away, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I wanted to watch the hunger in Samuel’s eyes as he looked at me. He dragged his thumb along my crease, and I sucked in a startled breath, too caught up in the sensation to be embarrassed because my body didn’t react as easily.
He rubbed my folds very lightly, then pushed between them. I could feel that I was only slightly wet and worried that he’d be frustrated with my lack of reaction, but Samuel dipped the pad of his thumb into me, causing me to gasp again. He began to draw out my arousal and spread it on my folds and clit, dip and swirl, dip and swirl, over and over again until I was panting and ready, even without lubricant. He pushed his thumb into me once more, but this time, he didn’t pull it back out. Instead, he started circling while his two fingers stroked my clit. I stared at his strong hand, at the fingers giving me pleasure. I could feelevery movement as if he was tugging at my nerve endings like a puppet master.
It was indescribable, and I clung to the blankets, panting, gasping, losing control of my body and the sounds coming from my mouth.
“Good,” he encouraged in a low voice. “You’re doing very good, Emma.”
His praise sent a new flood of arousal through me. He pulled out his thumb and brushed two fingers over my opening. I tensed, waiting for the discomfort, but Samuel held my gaze as he began rubbing my clit with his thumb, making me pant once more before he began to ease his fingers into me. My brows snatched together at the stretching sensation. It wasn’t painful, but definitely uncomfortable.
“Remember, you can say stop anytime,” he reminded me again.
“I know,” I pressed out, slightly annoyed because I didn’t want him to treat me like a porcelain doll.
I bit my lip. Maybe the mostly faded scars on my back, hips, and legs had caused him to worry, and I found it incredibly touching that he was trying to make sure that I would be okay. “You don’t have to treat me differently. I’m not breakable, and my injuries were treated properly, so they don’t cause me much trouble anymore. I’m not any different from other women. The wheelchair doesn’t mean I feel differently or that I don’t feel desire. I’m your wife, a woman, a person. The wheelchair doesn’t define who I am.”
“All right,” Samuel said in a low voice, moving a bit closer. “Then I’ll cut to the chase. I want to have sex with my wife tonight. What about you?”
Boom. I stared at him. I knew he meant me, but it took a few heartbeats to sink in. My throat became inexplicably dry. I’d fantasized about it, but I hadn’t really thought it would happen.Now that I realized it would really happen, my nerves crashed down on me. “I-I…”
“It’s okay if you say no.”
“No,” I blurted. “I mean, yes.” I shook my head, feeling a bit lightheaded.
Samuel touched my neck lightly, a gesture that calmed and excited me at the same time.
“I-I want to.”
“Don’t think. Let me handle it,” Samuel murmured, sounding reassuringly confident.
The overthinker in me protested, but for once, I didn’t listen. I only nodded. Samuel oozed control and calm.
Samuel removed his jacket with utter poise, then unfastened his gun holster and put it down on the nightstand. He climbed on the bed, and suddenly, he leaned over me, his face taking up my vision, and his mouth came down on mine, kissing me. Kissing me like he meant it, not hesitant and restrained, but firm and demanding, and before I could process what was happening, his tongue found mine and tasted me, teased me, filled me with a fire I had been unfamiliar with. He climbed on top of me, his weight pressing me into the mattress, surrounding me with his warmth and scent and strength.
Flames of need licked at my belly, making me ache in a way I’d never experienced. When he finally pulled back, his breathing harsh, his eyes dark and full of desire, I felt like he’d breathed life into me. He looked at me like I was the most desirable woman on this planet.
His hand brushed my shoulder before moving to my rib cage and my hands, which were still pressed against my breasts. He looked me in the eyes as he pulled one hand, then the other away, laying me bare.
I swallowed, my breath shaky.
“You can say no any time,” he rasped. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t think I could get a word out of my tight throat. I was so nervous and excited like never before.
His gaze slid lower, down to my puckered nipples, then his thumb stroked the underside of my breast. The touch was light and gentle as his fingers traced the curve of my breasts almost reverently. He lifted his head, and his blue eyes searched mine. Did he think I’d stop him?
Even if I was nervous, even if I wasn’t sure I was ready for what he wanted, I was too high on the look of hunger on his face to leave it unfulfilled.
I stared back at him, my tongue too heavy to speak the actual words—to tell him I wanted this, I wanted him—but he must have seen it in my face, probably from years of experience with countless women. His palm covered my breast, and his mouth claimed mine once more.
His fingers teased my nipple, rubbing it between them, sending a delicious tingling through my core, which intensified with every swirl of Samuel’s tongue in my mouth. I lay motionless, not because my body forced me but because Samuel rendered me as such.
He didn’t leave me time for doubt or fear as he pulled away from my mouth and latched onto my nipple.
I let out a surprised gasp at the feel of his hot, wet tongue pressing against my nipple, circling it, of his teeth grazing my sensitive skin. My fingers found the back of his head, holding on to him almost desperately as I gasped and trembled, completely overwhelmed. The feel of his crisp suit against my bare arms and belly was strangely erotic. He moved from one breast to the next before he made his way down my body, nibbling and kissing, but when he reached my hip bone, I tensed, worried he’d touch my legs, legs that weren’t as sensitive as that of others.
Samuel peered up at me as he caressed from my calf up to my thigh. I distantly felt the touch in some places, mostly my thighs, like a dull pressure, but it wasn’t strong, and in other places, I didn’t feel anything at all.
I considered faking sensations, but again, Samuel acted before I could. His touch became firmer as he kneaded my upper thighs, and finally, I felt it everywhere, especially deep in my core, as if my head had finally caught up. He lowered his head and pressed a kiss to my thigh as his eyes regarded my face, gauging my reaction. I saw the kiss more than I felt it, but by seeing it, seeing Samuel’s beautiful face against my thigh, my body reacted with a flood of desire. He bit down lightly on my skin, and I felt that in my core like a shock wave of arousal. My eyes widened, stunned and helpless in his hands.
His fingers hooked in my panties, and he pulled them down. Heat filled my cheeks from the intense look in his eyes as he raised them from my center to my face. Never taking his gaze off me, he gripped my upper thigh and parted me. I should have looked away, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I wanted to watch the hunger in Samuel’s eyes as he looked at me. He dragged his thumb along my crease, and I sucked in a startled breath, too caught up in the sensation to be embarrassed because my body didn’t react as easily.
He rubbed my folds very lightly, then pushed between them. I could feel that I was only slightly wet and worried that he’d be frustrated with my lack of reaction, but Samuel dipped the pad of his thumb into me, causing me to gasp again. He began to draw out my arousal and spread it on my folds and clit, dip and swirl, dip and swirl, over and over again until I was panting and ready, even without lubricant. He pushed his thumb into me once more, but this time, he didn’t pull it back out. Instead, he started circling while his two fingers stroked my clit. I stared at his strong hand, at the fingers giving me pleasure. I could feelevery movement as if he was tugging at my nerve endings like a puppet master.
It was indescribable, and I clung to the blankets, panting, gasping, losing control of my body and the sounds coming from my mouth.
“Good,” he encouraged in a low voice. “You’re doing very good, Emma.”
His praise sent a new flood of arousal through me. He pulled out his thumb and brushed two fingers over my opening. I tensed, waiting for the discomfort, but Samuel held my gaze as he began rubbing my clit with his thumb, making me pant once more before he began to ease his fingers into me. My brows snatched together at the stretching sensation. It wasn’t painful, but definitely uncomfortable.
“Remember, you can say stop anytime,” he reminded me again.
“I know,” I pressed out, slightly annoyed because I didn’t want him to treat me like a porcelain doll.
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